Wide Awake Wishes
by anyadoll
Summary: She was going through with it after all...
1. Wide Awake Wishes

A/N: Okay, I'm literally brimming with ideas…nothing for months and all of a sudden…inspiration. Love it. ("Breakeven" lyrics following throughout, by The Script—I highly recommend listening to this. It's literally perfect.)

Wide Awake Wishes

_I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing  
Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in  
Cuz I got time while she got freedom  
Cuz when a heart breaks no it don't break even  
Her best days will be some of my worst  
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first  
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping  
Cuz when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven  
What am I suppose to do when the best part of me was always you  
What am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up and your ok  
I'm falling to pieces…_

She was going through with it.

Her dress was finished, fitted, beautiful, hidden in the office in a white garment bag from her sister's prying eyes and non superstitious fiancé. Simple, strapless, elegant and easy, like she wanted. The flowers were ordered; typical white roses, a few peonies for color. Outdoor wedding, in the Albuquerque "winter." She refused heels. She would go barefoot in the sand first.

The guest list was minimal…on her side. The mother of the bride. Her sister—maid of honor. No father; she'd asked Stan to walk her down the aisle, and he'd teared up at the offer, quickly accepting. Eleanor, well, just because she'd never admit how much she enjoyed having someone to spar with just for the hell of it.

It would be beautiful. It would be perfect.

It would be sad, too.

She was missing a vital part of the formula, and it would never be the same. Her best man, her best friend, her partner.

They hadn't spoken in months.

They'd never been apart, and now…now she'd lost him. In the beginning, she'd tried. She'd reached out. Made hundreds of calls, left thousands of messages. Every day she tried a little less. Until a little less became every other day, and every other day became once a week. And then, not at all.

It hurt, not to have his blessing. Not to have _him_.

_I can't give you away. _

Those were his parting words. She'd stared at the spot where he stood, long after he'd left. Left her. He'd promised he would never leave. Now she was left feeling empty, the day before the reason he'd walked out.

He knew it was coming. She had given him timely warning, the ring had weighed heavy on her finger for little over a year now. It seemed more a constant reminder of that day, rather than the happy implication of 'til death do we part.

Raph sympathized, but never understood the connection. He didn't know what it felt like to lose half of your soul. No, Raph was easy, like appeasing a child with candy. He didn't fight for her. He'd never had too. He'd never been any the wiser of the inner workings of the complicated relationship she'd pushed away.

Her best friend had fought for her. Marshall had fought tooth and nail.

She'd denied him. She'd lied to him. She thought she would always have him.

It was her fault.

A day before her wedding, and she felt sick. Sick of the planning that she used to keep her mind off of him.

If he hadn't said it, they would have been fine. But the words were out, and they could never be taken back, no matter how much we try to retrieve them.

A day before her wedding, and all she wanted was him…

XOX

"Okay, see, I'm not supposed to be here," Marshall said, flinching at the pink paper mache décor, heart beads, and 'Kiss The Bride' tee shirts adorning Eleanor, Jinx, Brandi, and, to his abject horror, Mary—who honestly seemed to be the most horrified of all. "I'm a guy…we don't do bachelorette parties—"

Mary balked, grabbing Marshall by the ear from his stunned position at her front door. "Oh, hell no. See if I have to endure male strippers and crazy alcoholics all night long, you are going to suffer with me my friend," Mary whispered darkly.

The next thing he knew, he was wearing a 'Kiss The Bride' tee shirt and listening to Jinx belt out the lyrics to a slew of wedding inspired songs, improvising on which songs actually had which lyrics, culminating in a sort of mish mash "wedding remix," according to the clearly tone deaf bar owner. Mary kept a steady pace of tequila shots when she wasn't pounding her head against the table. Brandi, in all made of honor glory, had yet to realize the strippers were paid to like her, while Eleanor managed a permanent air of oblivious happiness after three cosmos.

Marshall was in bridal hell.

Mary finally looked up, alcohol tinged eyes desperate to leave. Sensing that the rest of the party was well distracted, he helped his drunken partner out of her chair, stumbling all the way, out the door of the cheap, middle of nowhere bar.

"I hate them all," Mary said surely.

"Their intentions are…good…" Marshall laughed, the single sober one of the party.

"Har Har," she mocked him. She sat down on the curb roughly, staring up at the midnight sky. It was a blissfully clear night, and as she stared at the familiar stars, one bright light streaked briefly across the darkness before burning out in the shadows. "Hey, shooting star!" Mary exclaimed, elated. She'd loved them when she was a kid, always wishing for silly things like bikes and school cancellations. After her father had vanished, she'd begun wishing for him instead.

Marshall lowered himself to the ground beside Mary, grinning. "If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be?"

Her smile faded slowly. "Same thing I always wished for. Wishes though, they don't come true."

He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him on the empty curb. "Well, how about instead of wishing for the same thing, you wait, remember that the universe owes you one wish, and you cash it in when you finally come up with that perfect, obtainable, wish?"

Mary laughed, shaking her head. "That is cheesy beyond belief doofus, even for you. But, hey, why not. I like the universe owing me."

"Thought you would come around to that idea."

They sat for awhile after that, silently, comfortably.

"What about you?"

"What?" he asked.

"If you could have anything, wish for anything, what would it be?" she stated quietly.

He looked away, pulling at the loose stone of the curb. "Why wish for what you can't have, right?"

Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head curiously. "Hey, I'm supposed to be the cynical one; you believe in this wish-y stuff. It's your game, you started it."

He shrugged, finally facing her. "If I could have anything…if I could have anything at all..." he sighed, mouth opening and closing, words dying in his throat.

"If I could wish for anything, I would wish for you, Mary. I would wish you knew how much I loved you," he finished, steady, sure.

"Marshall…" she tried, voice catching. He shook his head, seeming to decide something, and pulled her face to his, crushing her lips to his. She reacted to the sudden, abrupt contact, something familiar, something wholly different. She couldn't breathe, all oxygen gone, as he held her for dear life and his mouth slid over hers. He was losing her, and he wanted what he could still have. When he finally pulled away, shakily leaning his forehead against hers, he knew they were done.

"I needed to know, before I leave," he said, almost inaudibly. Her eyes shot to his at that announcement.

"What…"

"I'm leaving, Mary. I filed for reassignment."

"I-I…I don't understand. Why are you leaving?" she questioned desperately.

"I love you, Mary. I can't watch you marry him. But you will, and I can't watch and pretend I'm happy for you. I'll let you go, but I can't give you away."

He stood, looking at the woman he could never have. For once, she was speechless, and he was gone.

XOX

Mary leaned her forehead against the cool windowpane, staring out at the sky like she had that night. Raph was asleep, oblivious to the desperate whispers she uttered to the stars.

"Hey, universe, you owe me one…"

To be continued.


	2. All The Stars Have Gone Away

A/N: So I posted this story at like…four in the morning…no proof reading, no real review from myself. I think I'm putting the first bachelorette party at 4 months ago, and again, I have my reasoning, you'll see…but this is Mary, so I'm gonna roll with it. Sorry about that! I was really impulsive with this story. Well, continuing on…

All The Stars Have Gone Away

_They say bad things happen for a reason  
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding  
'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving  
And when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven, even, no  
What am I gonna do  
When the best part of me was always you  
And what am I suppose to say_

_When I'm all choked up and you're okay_

_I'm falling to pieces_

_One's still in love while the other one's leaving  
Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven…  
_

She could remember the hurt, disappointed look on Raph's face when she postponed the wedding. After the bachelorette party, she'd gone to him, fear filled eyes and full of sadness.

"I…I can't do it," She'd whispered in a rush. She'd lost her best friend. He refused to be there for her on her most important day. When Raph had asked why, she'd been quick enough to come up with an excuse; it was too soon…she wanted a real wedding…she just needed time.

He'd given her time. He'd given her four months since the bachelorette fiasco, since the original date. And when her hope in Marshall's return had failed, she'd told Raph she was ready. She didn't want another bachelorette party. She didn't want a big reception. She just wanted something quick, something quiet. And that new wedding date was in twenty four hours.

She couldn't sleep. Wouldn't sleep. She put all the faith she had in something bigger to bring Marshall to her. All the wishing in the world wouldn't change how she'd hurt him, but she could try. And she could hope that he would give her another chance.

And, if she had to admit it to herself, her feet were colder than ice—and aching to run.

XOX

"Eleanor, if I wanted to be a pin cushion…" Mary glared at the second 'bridesmaid' viciously.

"Well, if you would stop dancing around I would be able to fix it!" She snapped back. Mary hadn't been the atypical bridezilla until today. Now nothing was right. The flowers were in the wrong places, the cake was late, the dress was too loose, her hair was wrong…and Eleanor had already figured out what the half crazed bride was doing. Eleanor glanced up at Brandi, the true maid of honor, who Mary had freaked at the thought of touching her dress with her untrained fingers. "Brandi, do you think you could get Mary a shot of anything with a decent amount of alcohol in it?"

"Sure, yea, that's a job I can do easily," Brandi answered, eager to escape from the torture chamber.

When she'd fled the room, Eleanor turned on Mary, standing and facing the reluctant bride. "Mary, why are you trying to ruin your wedding," Eleanor asked, but made it abundantly clear the wiser woman already new the answer.

Mary chewed on her lip, tears welling in her overly made up eyes. She couldn't even lie anymore. "It's already ruined," she whispered. "He's not here."

Eleanor sighed, placing her hands gently on either side of Mary's distressed face, forcing her to look at her. "Listen, to me, for once Mary. If you need him to be here, if his absence on this day is that crucial to your wedding, then I want you to think about who you're marrying—and why. Because I think you already have your answer, and because I think you are making a mistake. But like Stan, I will stand by and let you go through with this, if that's what _you_ want. If that's _who_ you want."

Mary didn't move. Didn't make a sound as she digested Eleanor's words, wrapping them around her mind over and over again.

"Now, I'm finished with your dress, and the flowers are fine and the cake will be here and you look beautiful. So I'm going to leave you now," Eleanor stated surely, leaving Mary alone in the room with nothing but the heavy words hanging in the air.

"Stupid," Mary whispered, frustrated at the day already. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, all of it," she cried, sinking down to the floor as the white dress floated softly down with her. She plucked at the bouquet next to her, pulling one of the roses out of it, twirling it in her fingers. She remembered when she used to pull the petals off, the aim of the childish game to end up with the last petal meaning 'he loves me.' Instead, she dug her manicured fingernail into the stem, breaking the connection and watching the pretty white bud fall. He wasn't coming.

No matter how many times she wished or bargained or played.

She swiped at the tears, brushed her hair out of her face, and stood. She really needed that shot right about now, wondering where Brandi had run off too—or if she'd already drank the bottle herself. When the door opened behind her, she sighed with relief. "Thank god, I need that right about—"

The door closed. Her voice caught as she turned.

"Sorry, I'm late. It took me awhile to get here."

XOX

She shook her head. Was she imagining this? Was he really there? For a moment, time seemed to slow for the pair in the room. He looked the same, immaculately dressed in a well made suit; sounded the same, seemed the same—if but for the resignation in his sad eyes.

"Why now?" she whispered the question, more to herself than to him. He looked away, faltering.

"I…I needed closure. You need closure. I couldn't leave us…that way."

"You left me, Marshall. You left. You _promised_ you would never leave me," she said shakily. The anger and happiness converging over each other as she tried to work out the scene in her mind.

He swallowed hard, never moving from his position by the door. He needed the distance. "I think…you know…this is your day. I didn't mean to come uninvited. This was a mistake. I just wanted to…I just want you to know that I wish you all the best. You deserve the best, Mary…don't let anyone tell you any less. Don't let anyone give you any less. If…if you ever need me…I'll be here. I can promise you that. You can always find me."

She closed her eyes, breathing, thinking. Somewhere past the room she could hear the sound of the violins playing. Guests were being seated. Finishing touches were being made. Eleanor and Brandi would be coming to get her soon. Raph would be waiting at the end of the white rose trail. And yet, it didn't make her happy. It didn't seem right.

When she opened her eyes, Marshall was closer. Not close enough to touch. Not close enough to reach out to. Just close.

"I didn't know if you had the four requirements…you know, something old, something new…" he trailed quietly.

She gave a small smile. "The dress is new, the veil is old—it was my mom's; Brandi let me borrow her make up expertise, if that counts. But no blue."

"Well, then, good thing I brought this," Marshall said, sides of his mouth turning up slightly. Mary tilted her head to the side, curious. "It's not much, but I thought it…I thought it was perfect."

He set a small, white box on the side table where her ring sat, glinting in the afternoon sun. She stared at the inconspicuous gift, as if it would reveal what lie inside. The pressure of his hand weighed on the side of her face, brushing away the wispy curls her sister had styled earlier. "You look beautiful, classic Cinderella, you know."

She laughed lightly, blinking away tears. "Come on, I've cried enough." He nodded, dropping his hand.

"I know," Marshall replied, backing away from the Cinderella recreation. "Bye, Mary."

She heard the door creak open, and close behind his wiry frame. Gently picking up the white box, apprehensive about its contents, she counted to ten to calm down. There was no paper to unwrap; no ribbon to untie. Just the plain white lid hiding the object.

"Oh…Marshall…" she breathed, holding the necklace between her thumb and index finger carefully. The long, delicate white gold chain twisted and winked as she held it up to the light. But it was the thin charm dangling from the chain that caught her eye. A star—three pale blue gems blinking brightly in three of the points—for the three years, she knew, that they'd been partners, friends, and something more. She turned the star over, finding an engraving scrawled on the tiny surface.

_Wishes come true_

_-M._

Engagement ring in one hand, necklace in the other.

She grabbed a pen from Brandi's bag, grabbed her wedding invitation from her own. The music outside increased, crescendo. They would be coming soon.

She picked the fallen bouquet up off the floor, laying it beside the invitation.

Decision made, she placed the burdening ring on top of the hastily written note, chanced a quick glance around the room, and took off running in the opposite direction.

She'd be long gone before they knew she left.


	3. And Into The Night We Go

A/N: Final chapter—short and hopefully sweet?!

And Into The Night We Go

_You got his heart and my heart and none of the pain  
You took your suitcase, I took the blame  
Now I'm trying to make sense of what little remains  
'Cause you left me with no love and no love to my name  
I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing  
Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in  
'Cause I got time while she got freedom  
'Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break  
No it don't break, no it don't breakeven…_

It was Eleanor that found the hastily written message on the wedding invitation. Brandi had gasped, slack jawed and honestly confused; Jinx, disappointed at her daughter's flight reflex. Stan, far more confused than even the maid of honor, had to have Eleanor quietly explain the situation twice over before all the pieces fell into place before him: his inspectors were in love, yes…with each other. With a 'how-could-you-have-truly-missed-_that_' eye roll from Eleanor, all Stan could do was lament over the paperwork he'd have to start filing.

It was the groom, though, that was the least surprised of all. One's coping mechanism tends to build when they've been rejected before. He'd given her time, more than he should have, and she'd run. Like he knew she ultimately would.

But this time she wasn't running away. This time she was running _to_ someone. And that someone wasn't him.

It never really had been him.

He picked up the engagement ring, silently slipping out of the room. The words of the note echoing in his mind. They'd stay there for a while, the hurt of being left behind.

_I know what I want now. I know who I want. And I just can't do this._

_Sorry,_

_Mary. _

XOX

Somehow, she knew he'd be here.

It had been four months since he'd been in their WITSEC office. His desk was empty, cleared of all personal items. She had kept his nameplate, hidden away in a drawer, stolen out of his box. She hadn't been able to part with the last piece of him. Stan had yet to get around to finding the abrasive inspector a new partner—out of fear of confrontation, or simply out of fear, Mary hadn't figured out—and she would have no conversation on the topic. Her dramatic mood swings typically favoring absolute terror, so much so that even Eleanor's tough skin had been broken more than once, or a downshift into deep depression, leaving Mary feeling more alone than she'd ever felt before.

It was four months of hell no one wanted to relive.

She was relieved to see his familiar form leaning on the balcony. It had taken her longer to get here than she'd hoped; her car had had a few problems starting, like usual, and had to be…kicked into gear, so to speak. Her hair was falling from its pristine bun; the curls losing their bounce. Make up smudged from the New Mexico heat and the earlier waterworks—still wearing her wedding dress.

By now, Mary guessed, they'd found the note. She'd apologize later, and would no doubt be pounced on and harassed by her mother and sister when she finally went home.

He heard her behind him—felt her behind him. The wedding had either been very quick or very…Mary.

"How was the wedding?" He asked evenly, no emotion touching the words.

"I wouldn't know," She replied quietly. He turned to face her, surprised. In all the years he'd known her, no matter his opinion, she rarely listened to him, if at all. And now his best friend stood before him, the picture of Cinderella after midnight, a little worse for the wear and still beautiful, even as her world fell apart. "I didn't make it. See, I have this friend that…that I count on. I count on him to be there for me, whether or not I'm making the biggest mistake of my life, or just being a selfish bitch. I count on him to tell me that I'm wrong. I need him to save me from myself, and myself from the world and tell me that everything will be okay—even if it won't. That he'll never leave me. And today, he wasn't there. Today I realized that he's the biggest factor in my life. And if I needed him to be there, to that extent, to make him watch while I married someone else...knowing he was sacrificing his happiness…then he wasn't my friend. He could never be just my friend."

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her admission. "Everything has been so wrong without you, Marshall."

He stared at her for a long time after that, absorbing her long winded statement. Everything had been wrong without her, too. She was the biggest factor in his life. She was everything.

"It's been wrong without you too, Mare," Marshall conceded. A watery smile touched her lips. She opened her hand, revealing the star necklace.

"I chose you. I've spent four months wishing for you," she whispered.

He picked the delicate necklace up from her open palm, undoing the clasp. She turned away, allowing him to place the necklace around her, hands lingering on her shoulders, before turning her back to face him.

"Mary…will you promise me to stay, even when you feel like running; will you promise to talk to me, even when we're so angry at each other that we start using Eleanor and Stan as personal messengers; and will you promise to love me, even when you hate me…until some higher force intervenes, as long as we both shall live?"

She tilted her head to the side, seeing the honesty of his—proposition, more so than simple proposal—in his wide, hopeful eyes. And she knew from Marshall that it wasn't a marriage proposal. Not yet. He knew her far better than that, than anyone ever would.

She smiled, brighter than she had since he'd left, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

"I do."

He laughed lightly. "Then I now pronounce us, Marshall Mann and Mary Shannon, by the state of New Mexico, for all intents and purposes, officially together."

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, before replying.

"Marshall Mann, you may now kiss the most messed up girlfriend you will ever have."

"She's the only one I ever wanted. I wouldn't have her any other way."

"Good, because you're going to be stuck with me for a very long time," Mary said primly, pulling his face to hers to seal the proposal.

No alters, no flowers, no flashing cameras and flashier rings, no limos, no cake and throwing rice, no music…just two friends on a balcony, promising everything they could.


End file.
